"Sister," Sten called out, his voice slicing through the silence that enveloped the room.
Ingrid's eyes slowly shifted toward him, uncertainty etched on her face.
Sten, wearing a gentle smile that carried the weight of understanding, sought to ease her troubled thoughts. "Don't worry if you've forgotten. It's been a long time ago," he reassured her. "I don't even remember what I ate this morning."
Ingrid's thoughts betrayed her, etching lines on her forehead, brows furrowed like a sad puppy. "But I do," she mused, a silent lament. "How could I dare forget about those memories and yet remember what I ate for breakfast?"
"Huh? Eh, sister... I really mean it. It's okay," Sten's voice hurried, a note of panic creeping in.
Her gaze lowered, seeking solace in the floor beneath. "I'm sorry," Ingrid admitted, her voice barely rising above a whisper.
